There is Always Hope
by menz815
Summary: The evolution of Arthur and Gwen's courtship and how hope fits into it all. my first Arwen fic.


A/N: This is my first Arthur/Gwen fic. I watched the whole series in about a week over Christmas and I instantly fell in love with these two. I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the show.

* * *

You'd always been one to hope, even when there was little reason to. You were seven and your father had brought home a horse. Its fur was silky and gleamed in the sunlight, and you ran your fingers through its mane relishing in the way its strands tickled your skin. But treasures and good fortune had never been a constant in your life, and within a week, the King had raised the taxes enough to make the possibility of a horse an impossibility. That day was the day you lost all faith in your King. But there was always the hope that one day, things would change. You believed that they would. After all, hope was all you had.

* * *

You were watching from a window when you saw it. The prince, Arthur, bullying his subjects as if they were toys to be played with. You had hoped he would be different.

But perhaps even hope was something too great for a servant.

* * *

And when your world crashed down around you, when you lost your father, you knew there was nothing left for you now. You curled into a ball on the top of Merlin's bed, and couldn't even make the tears fall. It seemed you were all dried up, wasted, numb. But then he came, and you felt something deep inside your heart start to work again. You had realized he was something more than just the arrogant prince knocking down people in the streets when he went to save Merlin's life. He proved it again when he went to Ealdor and risked his life to save the people in Merlin's village, but you had yet to experience his compassion. So when he offered you all he could give, you were not only surprised, but grateful. Just maybe not grateful for the reasons he would believe. He didn't yet know that he had restored your faith.

* * *

As he lay on his deathbed, you felt the world suddenly fall upon your shoulders again, a terrible weight that made you wish that you had never had the burden lifted at all. You had seen something in him; in his heart he was a good man, so much different than his father. And it was strange to think it, but you couldn't escape the feeling that you were already intertwined with him somehow, perhaps because you had placed your last semblance of hope in him, and that was the very thing that kept you alive. If he had been awake, you would have never found the courage to say these words aloud, but you poured out your heart, and willed his to beat faster. You took his hand and placed it against your cheek, and almost cried out as its coldness pebbled goose bumps along your skin. Was everything in your life going to be carelessly ripped away?

When he awoke, you could feel yourself breath again. And you felt your cheeks flush when you realized he had heard every word you had said, but you still couldn't keep the smile from tugging at your lips as he teased you. It felt good to hear his voice again, and you didn't think it was simply because you knew he'd be a good king.

* * *

You let him stay with you because Merlin had asked, and to be honest, you sympathized with Arthur, who you knew only wanted to be treated like every other person. Most of the villagers would not agree, but you understood how hard it must be to be royal. To have that responsibility on your shoulders. So you were disappointed to find him as the spoiled prince you had perceived before, and you didn't know what made you do it, but you let your feelings be known. That seemed to be a habit with him. You realized afterwards your mistake, but he seemed to like that you always spoke your mind, a rare quality in men, proving to be even more extraordinary as he was royal and you were of lower station. He said that you always surprised him….well, the same could be said for him. He immediately tried to make amends, promising you dinner and a break, and you barely had time to register if this was a dream or not before you were scooted out of the doorway.

Needless to say, the dream state didn't wear off when you came back. The place was spotless with dinner cooked and on the table. Who knew he could play the part of normal so well? Time flew by as you chatted and laughed about this and that, and you marveled at how it could feel so comfortable, how their seemed to be such a little gap between the two of you when in reality you were miles apart. But then you saw the seal on the plates, and you were angered by the lie. You had thought maybe he could change, but it seemed with each step in the right direction, he seemed to take another one back, leaving him right where he started. You turned your back, and he grabbed your arm, an action that sent your heart into spasms. The heat from his touch seemed to be erupting throughout your whole body, and it only grew worse as he admitted that he cared for you. You got the inexplicable feeling that something was about to happen, one of those moments were time seems to be suspended and the air is still, the static a sudden presence that causes your ears to ring and your body to buzz.

And then Merlin walked in.

* * *

The next morning, you couldn't really explain to yourself why you were sad to see him go. He had inconvenienced you, made you sleep on the floor, and had treated you like a servant in your own home. But he had listened to you, he had tried to do better, and even though he failed, you could tell because of the sincerity in his eyes that he clearly wanted to be the king that you saw in him. And then there it was again, that stirring of hope in your chest. Maybe he would be the man that you dreamed he would be. But that still didn't explain why you woke early and quietly pulled out a needle and thread and a simple piece of cloth.

He seemed reluctant to leave which was odd. After all today was his moment of glory, and what was to stop him from collecting his prize? Shyly, you handed him your token, and chanced a glance at his face; the look in his eyes spoke nothing but pure adoration, and you hardly could process how that made you feel before his lips were on yours. A fire spread from your lips all the way down to your core, and your head grew hazy, so much so that you forgot for just a moment that he was the prince and you were just a servant. He tasted like sunlight and promises, a feeling so good, you followed him as he pulled away.

He seemed flustered and a bit confused, and before you knew it, he was out the door. You closed your eyes, and you tried to pretend that you had felt nothing at all. But the taste of him still lingered on your lips.

* * *

He didn't collect his prize that day, and when he appeared before his father in court, he smiled widely at you; so much so that you felt your heart flutter under his warm gaze. But although your time together was something you would never forget, you knew in time he would, so you let your smile drop, and saw his face fall in answer. You knew he understood that the time for fantasy was over, and despite your tendency towards practicality, you felt a sadness overcome you with this realization. But with hope came anguish, so when he came to you straight after, you replied that maybe one day things would change, but in your heart you did not believe it. And as he turned back to look at you, you knew that not even time could heal this wound permanently.

* * *

In your wildest dreams, you did not expect him to come. When you were tied to Lancelot and you grabbed his hand, you thought of how he had given up on life so easily, how he had represented so much hope when you had known him before, and how now he was broken and defeated. But a part of you still clung to that picture of him because he was something real, and he made you feel like things were possible. And then Arthur came. Deep inside, you thought that maybe he had cared, but he dashed all hope of that away with his words. So when Lancelot left, and you felt the tears burn your cheeks, you knew it was because all hope had vanished, and it wasn't just because of Lancelot's absence.

* * *

Months passed, and you watched from a distance as Arthur became the man you had seen inside of him. One day, you came upon him clearly distressed, and you reminded him of how great a man he was -you told him never to change- and the slight smile he gave you was enough to send butterflies loose in your stomach. But it also gave you that familiar pang of sadness, severely heightened by the way he looked into your eyes. It was conversations like these that reminded you of the fairy tale that was never meant to be…..

….that is until a bouquet of flowers and a note materialized on your table. You felt yourself cloaked in rays of sunshine, a smile never far from your lips, and as you approached Arthur later, you went along with his little game, flirting coyly as he expressed his doubts. There was something so endearing about the way he seemed so insecure and you mused it was because of what he saw with Lancelot, but he was far from your thoughts now, whereas Arthur was always in the forefront, constantly haunting you both night and day. You had told him there was always hope. But as you blew out your candles later that night, you knew that there was such a thing as false hope too, and you had never felt your heart so broken as you had in that instant.

As you walked to his tent later the next day, you knew either way that this was the end of everything. You couldn't let yourself be continually wrapped in this illusion; it was too painful. One day, he would either find someone else he could really call his queen, or he would be forced to.

You put your lips on his; at first he was resistant, but then you felt his own lips mold to yours, and as your arms wrapped around him, you felt yourself become weightless. Not just from him dipping you in his arms, but from the way your head seemed to spin every time you felt his rough fingertips on your skin. And you thought maybe there was good magic, as you felt a spark pass your lips when he deepened the kiss, but not even this kind was allowed in the kingdom.

_I've never loved another_, he had said early the next day.

And as much as you protested, it was becoming increasingly harder for you to tell yourself that you didn't feel the same way.

* * *

When the Great Dragon attacked, there was little time for anything but panic, and yet you felt yourself panic more about him than even yourself and your own safety. So when he saved your life and you tended to his wounds, you reprimanded him for risking his life. But it seemed, just like you, he was only worried about your safety, and the touch of his hand over yours left you wondering if you would ever be able to rid yourself of this feeling. It was a feeling of both heaven and hell combined in its fiery sweetness, and the pull of its temptation left you hungry for more.

Hours later, you could still feel the heat of his bare chest on the palm of your hand, and the place where his hand had rested burned pleasantly as you worked late into the night.

When he went after the dragon himself, you sat there waiting by the window, and didn't breathe until he walked back through the gates. And when you wrapped your arms around him, you realized that life was too short for either of you to hesitate any more. Hope was something to be held onto.

* * *

You didn't hold back any longer. Instead, he and you would sneak into empty corridors, or even at times his room, and each time you met, you felt yourself become more and more daring. Sometimes you'd just talk – about your day, his day, his subjects, the future. But the future was so hazy and fragile that that topic was often handled with care. Other times, you could barely keep your hands off each other. Behind a curtain in a long corridor, you pressed yourself against him and felt yourself shiver as his hands moved from your hair down your neck and spine. When you pulled away minutes later, you saw the way his eyes had darkened and you smiled timidly at his disheveled hair. You used your hand to smooth it, and he grabbed it, placing a kiss in the center of your palm.

Later when you went down to the kitchens, you heard the whispers. They saw your swollen lips and bright eyes, and knew a man was in your life. But most of them assumed it was Merlin, and Merlin did a fine job of playing up any opportunity that presented itself, from a small wink to a hand brush. He knew how to make the servants talk.

* * *

When the time came around for the annual jousting tournament, you expected Arthur to compete, but he told you he wanted to spend the time with you instead. Pretending there was a beast outside of Camelot again should be easy to fake, and no one would really miss him at the tournament this year with the arrival of a new young knight that the ladies were fawning over. Your head kept telling you that you were dancing down dangerous territory, but your heart was the one doing the talking these days, so you said yes.

The first night he cooked your dinner. This time, he told you Merlin helped him a bit, but it tasted delicious, and you marveled at how changed he was from that man a year ago that had encroached on your quarters. And yet, it was that day that he had stolen your heart, and now, you weren't sure if you would ever ask for it back.

The next night, he greeted you with a kiss so passionate, that you felt your knees buckle as a wave of pleasure pulsed through your body. He pressed you so close, you could feel the flutter of his heart against your own, and as he cradled the small of your back pulling your waist flush up against him, you felt your dress ride up a bit in the back, and you let a small moan escape your lips. His lips traveled down your neck to your collarbone, but no further. He may have wanted more (honestly, you knew you did), but he respected you too much to take the next step, and the risks were too costly to even consider. But he did lead you to the bed, and as you lay side by side, just staring, you knew there was something on his mind.

"What is it Arthur? You haven't even said a word since I've come back." You reached your hand out and cradled his cheek, watching him close his eyes, and then open them. His eyes searched yours for a moment before he murmured, "Marry me." But you didn't know if he really meant, so you remained silent. It was then that he produced a ring from his pocket, an old one, presumably in the Pendragon family for years, but the shine of the rock still remained unblemished.

"I know we can't be together now, but this is a promise that I will wait….however long it takes. I know you said one day I'd find my real princess, but that one day was a year ago. So will you be my queen?"

You hesitated for a moment, not because you didn't know you answer, but because you weren't sure it would mean anything in the end. He may have to wait forever. But you knew any day apart would be too much for you to bear anymore, so you decided to hope. After all, you should never underestimate the power of love. So you told him yes, and for that one night, you slipped the ring on your finger. And as you fell asleep in his arms, you knew you'd made the right choice because it meant you could spend forever in his embrace.

_There is always hope_; this time, you just chose to believe it.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed this. I kept it a bit simple since it was my first time writing them. Please review even if you don't have an account.


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